


Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart

by LemonyButters



Category: South Park
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fancy, Fluff and Angst, Gangs, M/M, alittlebitfunny, crazycraig, kennyjustbeingkenny, richpeople, sassytweek, softcraig, somethingtragichappenstho, stylearelikeparents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13257090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonyButters/pseuds/LemonyButters
Summary: Tweek hates rich people and white rooms so when he enrolls in South Park Ecole Des Arts, he was livid. This great art school is a reflection of those things and Tweek is having none of it. So he starts changing the school slowly even if he has to torture Craig Tucker, the leader of a gang that hides outside of the campus.Au where there is a sassy Tweek that is taking none of people's bullshit-especially Craig's, Craig is a drug lord and hates Tweek with all his soul, Stan and Kyle are a loving couple giving wisdom to their friends and Butters and Kenny are trying to find each other.





	1. Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> So enough of all those fics where Tweek is insecure and Craig have to come to the rescue, how about the complete opposite! Plus my other two fav couples of course.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It’s a great advantage not to drink among hard drinking people.”

The room was too glassy, was Tweek’s first impression, especially this time of day where there were too many of those fluffy smoke outside and lack of the big orange ball. The walls were a creamy colour and there were pillars-yes pillars-erecting up to the room’s limitation. Along this bleached room, graved into the depts of the concrete, were artful patterns-snaking up and entwining themselves together. A wonderful scenery with mastered carvings like Da Vinci was here himself. The smell was elaborate and overwhelming, smelling like the room was just assembled with no scent of any living being. The air was toxic-filled with luxury, it was too fancy and had too many tastes. The furnitures were just like the walls, decorated in the non-pigmented colour which-in a way-generate heat, no wonder Tweek was in a pool of sweat.

“You must be my new roommate.” The tone was coarse and the words were slow to produce, like this person was advancing towards a scared animal. It also sounded formal and mature, just by the 6 terms that flee themselves from his mouth. Nonetheless the approach, Tweek jumps, making all his previous thoughts scatter to his unconsciousness; to bring up for later times. His shoes, that were two sizes bigger than his foot, squeals along the polish floor while his head revolves to the addresser. Tweek’s heart beats twice per second.

“Sorry for my unforeseen entry,” twosome steps closer, “the name is Token.” The dark skin tone boy holds forth his hands, which were concealed with white gloves. It seems like this whole school is veiled with that colour. Swear to God, this school is not known for the arts but rather the hue.

Enough of that talk, what Tweek finds mesmerizing was his attire. It was well made, that even a person like Tweek could recognize the famous company who crafted it. It was sharp-looking, this black tie, and it melts your eyes just by skimming along each string that combines to produce this beauty. The textile of the blouse underneath was incredible, making all the art in the room feel jealous. It even made Tweek despise the owner, such clothing should be frame and kept out of toxic ingredients that can damage it.

“T-tweek.” Was what he had to respond as he clasps Token’s arm and the dark skin boy’s mouth went up.

“Well, Tweek. I hope we become,” Token’s eyes stir to Tweek’s own clothing-which consists of a worn out t-shirt and baggy shorts, a distaste expression flashes across his face “mildly friends.” It was a statement that was meant to be taken as a compliment, as if Tweek was this lowlife meeting the queen of England. 

Token floats past him-like he was important kind of matter-and travels down to the table, seated in the corner. On said table, lies a vessel with a dark shade of colour deluging the glass container. He lifts up the bottle right above his chin and read the written words that roams across it. After taking a second to do that, he opens the drawer and elevate two glasses, pouring the red liquid into both. The red sticky water flows in silence and when it reaches both cups in equal measures, Token glances up and strolls back to Tweek, ”assuming that you just came-which my hypotenuse is most likely right-you haven’t seen all of our little school yet,” Token stirs both cups and smile, his teeth bright and shining, ”cheers for the new comer.”

“I-I don’t drink alcohol,” Tweek disclaims, pushing his hands to his chest. In result, Token stares with cautious and unsureness before a light clicks in his dark brown eyes.

“Wine.”

“What?”

“It’s wine that I am offering. Although it contains alcohol, it is significantly different.”

As if that was relevant in this situation, Tweek raises his eyebrows, “does it matter?”

There was an expression that crosses Token’s face and he pursed his lips together, “it does but you already reject that offer so let’s end this dispute.” He rests the second glass on the closest table near him and looks up, bringing forth his fake smile once again.

Tweek concludes that this person is like a reflection of this place or maybe just an actual offspring. Fakeness runs through the artificial structures and biotics here.

“As I was saying, maybe we could go and examine the place before your semester starts, newbie.”

No. Hell no.

Not with someone like him.

“I..um I think I’m just going to eat dinner with..my um family.” He lies.

“Then I’ll join you,” Token laughs petting an arm on Tweek, “it’ll be great meeting my roommate’s breeders and siblings.”

Breeders?

God no.

Tweek looks around, trying to find any other excuse. At the corner of his eyes, he sees a set of boxes that he didn’t quite unpack (or touch) because he was awing at the walls. Tweek, first put his finger to his lips like he was thinking and pretends to slap his head, "oh you know, my family is probably busy. Plus I still need to unpack.” He said gesturing towards the boxes.

“Oscar would do that,” Token gleams and pushes his hands through the loop between Tweek’s arm and the rest of his body. Tweek opens his mouth to ask who’s Oscar but Token beats him to it, “let’s have fun! But first, let’s make you look like a highborn.”

Tweek brings his eyebrows together and mouthed, “highborn?”

 

+

“I-in my defense, I didn’t know South Park was so affluent,” Tweek said, tailing behind Token with two sentries following them. It seems that Token had figured out Tweek wasn’t born into a rich family-which wasn’t a secret in the first place considering he didn't dress well-and had offered to make Tweek look ‘adequate’ as his life continues here. Really, the whole reason why Tweek is here was because he was good at piano and singing, so good at it that his parents decided to sell their whole store just to slap him in this school. Additionally, it seems in order to fit in this institution fill with glitters and diamonds you have to be first wealthy, drink wine (not alcohol) and have a million girls follow you behind like you’re their God or something. And no, not be great at art or anything related to this fucking school. Nice.

This, though doesn’t make them best friends. Tweek still regards Token with distaste (doesn’t like rich people in general) but he guess if he was to be close to-or come close as friends-it would be his roommate, until he finds someone that doesn’t act like Kayne.

“South Park Ecole Des Art has enroll the most expensive families and the most well known in the whole country,” Token speaks, fixing his tie while one of his body guards holds up a mirror, “like moi, for example, the Blacks family-” He stops suddenly, in front of the many stores that filled the side walk, all shinning with name brand names. 

“Known for their industries of wine.” Tweek finishes for him and Token turns to Tweek, his lip twitches up before continuing to walk, “yes, my great great great grand dad-or as I like to call him grangran-first invented the delicious wine,” Token waves his hands and the two body guards resume their previous positions, “and it only makes sense to send their great great great grand-son to the greatest school in the world.”

Tweek rolls his eyes.

“But, there isn’t just me. There is also the Scotch family.”

“Known for their industries of cars.” A group of girl passes by them all nodding at Token and not glancing at Tweek once. Their hair curls around gold and diamond jewelries and their hands enlist with Vuitton's purses. They follow each other in this weird like order, with their backs straight up and lips swollen with injections.

“And the most famous of all in this region and outwards,” he peers at Tweek and produce his next sentence silently and carefully, “the famous Tucker family.”

Tweek had heard of the Tuckers before and their significance. If his memory serves him correctly, there was once two kids and one of them died at a very young age due to cancer. The family lived near Tweek’s hometown in the woods, the dark green woods. He remembers hearing rumors as a kid that they would capture people and boil them alive but it was silly rumors. Right?

To be honest, there were more tales that they were famous for than what they actually do.

So, as he stands in front of a store-blazing in the sideline of his face waiting for someone to buy its products-he hesitates. He can’t seem to recall the information that he had once gathered of this family. They were hella popular where he came from and their names ring every week but Tweek usually just rolls his eyes and puts his earbuds in.

Following Tweek’s pause, Token looks beside him and stares, the same kind that he’s giving him ever since he met him. Cautious and unsureness.

“The most richest in all of South Park and known for their industries of superstores like Walmart and...” Token purses his lips together as if he was about to reveal something dangerous.

“And?” Token stares at Tweek sincerely after he asked that question, it was more like he was made out of glass or evaporating before him. His eyes flash with emotions before they become unreadable, almost like every person here. More silence, Tweek swallows and repeats his words, “and?"

“Let’s keep walking.” Token finishes, putting one feet in front of the other. So they did, though now Token was leading him rather than walking beside him. Before they reach their destination, they pass by a boutique which had a couple of boys mobbing the entrance. They wore black leather jackets, a different scheme among this white neighborhood. There were buttons at the top leading down the arms. Along the unilluminated colours, were trademarks-figurines of phoenixes, red but were burning in fires of blue. There were words transcending above their small heads but with such distance, they can not be seen.

Turning back to the group, everyone seem to be swarming the boy in the middle like he was a leader of this strange gathering. He leans on the transparent glass; tall and lanky, nodding his head so slight with the wind. He looks across and caught eyes with Tweek, a cigar bringing smoke to his face, casting a mask on his sensitive skin. He had a flock of black hair peeking underneath his beanie and he didn’t seem to wear wealthy, fancy clothing. In fact, none of them seem to which made it even more suspicious, likewise relief. His face was strong yet tired, and his eyes…

His eyes were blue. Not the nice blue that you see on a sunny day or on a nice clothing. It was icy blue and cold like they were dead for a long time, a very long time. It stands out on his face and it didn’t seem like it was looking at something more like it was waiting for something. The smile that lays beneath made it worse because it was fake, faker than any of Token’s or the people passing or the fake smile you do when you’re talking to someone you don’t like but yet so..intruding.

“The thing about the Tuckers,” Token said, after their little silence, ”is that you must at all cost stay away from them.”

On cue, a group of girls came out and cover up the group. The one with the blue eyes kept his stare, though, while putting his arms around a blond chick who wore the same silk jacket.

“Why?" Was all Tweek muttered, eyes glued to each other and no emotions being exchange.

“They’ll come after you.” Was what Token said before entering the store and the blue eyes breaking their gaze.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I love sassy Tweek.


	2. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let us learn to show our friendship for a man when he is alive and not after he is dead.”

The first time Tweek met Craig Tucker-or should he say the second time he met Tucker after the staring contest that they had-was on his initial day of school when the orange ball was glowing slightly. It was the am and the start of a wonderful day at South Park Ecole Des Art. In the halls, the rich were telling each other about their famous family meetings and other celebrities encounter. Tweek notices how boast every person is unlike his old school where everyone is just trying to fit in. Here is you’re either important than everyone else or a janitor and no one wants to be a janitor. Not to mention, each person wore an important linguine that costs more that the tuition.

Giggles and chatters erupting in the room. There were a good sum of people-more than Tweek expected-and still no one seem to notice the blond (the newbie, Token seem to call him). Even when Token introduces him to ‘people’ they simply observe for one second before becoming uninterested. And Tweek ain’t complaining at all, he doesn’t want to deal with these people as much as they don’t want to deal with him.

He has to thank Token though, because if he didn’t clothe him then he would have look like a fool and he wouldn’t know what these people would have done.

The buildings for the lectures were different than the rest of the campus. Yes, it was white but it was hypnotizing because it had chandeliers dangling from the ceiling and golden floor guiding you to each sections. (Like WTF?) The walls had famous paintings and the cases had important ancient instruments. The violins and guitars rust under the shimmering light right above them showing their value and their quality. Trapped in frames were famous photographs of people that graduate here and became successful-as if they weren’t like that before.

But could we talk about how big this place is?

Tweek’s mouth was open and saying wow unintendedly, ever so often. It went on for some time before Token pokes him in the ribs and guided his direction to the entrance. The doors burst open like the scenes you’d see in movies about princes in castles. “What?”

“Shh.” Is all Token said and the hallway seem to follow that command.

Coming from the entrance were seven people, five individuals wearing the sarcenet black jackets that Tweek saw before. In the front, as always, was the leader-the blue eyes with his blank expression and artificial smile. Escorting right behind him was a golden fellow. Another member it seems with the blazer wrapped around his muscles, giving them shape through the pitch-black clothing. His hair was covering his countenance and he had a brawny jawbone, making his features quite mysterious and handsome. Two girls swing from his arms, snogging his neck like steak, licking till his skin turns red then to purple-making Tweek cringe in silence. The two girls weren’t part of their gang, they were wearing regular clothes and look more like prostitutes than students. Follow closely behind was another raven hair, the same blue eyes but his eyes were readable and alive. He had a more softer face and was scanning the crowd for someone but was later disappointed. He was listening to a girl to his left side with long hair and a smiley pretty face. The last member was a blond girl, the same Tweek had seen existing out of that boutique and following blue eyes. She was looking straight ahead with her bandana over her hair. Her curls flock down to her shoulder and her lips were purple. She was fit, almost the prettiest girl Tweek had ever seen.

“Who are they?” Tweek requests and the lady beside him scowls, “you don’t know the famous Tucker and his gang, the Phoenix.”

Tweek chokes. Gang? No, he does fucking not.

Tucker, the most richest person on this whole campus is in a gang. A gang in the most famous and best art school in the country.

Something does not add up.

“No,” Tweek said, watching the seven people saccade down the hall. Every eyes fear them.

E-v-e-r-y.

“Who doesn’t know of Craig Tucker, Kenny Mccormick, Stan Marsh, Wendy Testabuger and Bebe Stevens.” The girl whispers, rolling her eyes, “unless you were living under a rock for your whole entire life.” She spins to overlook Tweek and tilts her head, “you were, weren’t you?'

Those sentences meant nothing to Tweek. He was in his own world, by now, where it was just Craig and him. Everyone else disappear into smoke. He wasn’t the only one though, almost half the crowd was in a daze-still fearing-but in a daze. He was so captivating, so unique and Tweek just wants to crumble all those adjectives and crush them in his hands. Tweek wants to see those cold eyes glitter with emotions and that hideous smile wipe of his face. He wants to torture Craig Tucker, torture him enough to see the real him.

The Tucker. The Tucker born from another Tucker.

The words ring in his mind like a song. Like a mocking bird siting on a old tree, watching the owner of a house go through their day. Or a paino, playing softly in an empty room. It was chocolate melting in his mouth how smooth the name is. Craig Tucker.

Tucker.

Tweek never once heard of the Tucker’s son being part of a gang or even being enroll in this school. That, he can confirm for sure.

Craig Tucker, Tweek thought, the name keeps repeating itself in his brain. Craig Tucker. It was contagious, the syllables and the structure.

“Craig Tucker,” Tweek whispers, a sufficient amount for himself to hear but not enough for those around him. Not enough for Token who stands there gaping at the group or the lady shaking her head. Wasn’t for the boy in front of him with his white blouse or the girl with her too high skirt. It was transparent, soft and shouldn’t pass the meters that lay between Tweek and Craig but as if it did, he revolves. Craig Tucker turns and caught Tweek's gaze, his eyes flicker of something before turning to its icy cold colour.

“They don’t call him Craig, though,” Token declares, peering at Tweek. Tweek was glaring at Craig’s back, his broad shoulder hunches over as if he was carrying something heavy for his whole life. When he exhales his muscles relax not to their fullest but it was noticeable.

It was in slow motion, time stop and people lay conscious but unmovable. That’s how he felt.

Tweek opens his mouth, after getting too caught up with Craig to make the air fly through his pharynx and produce his words. “What do they call him?” What do they call this boy.

“The Blue Phoenix.”

Tweek furrowed his eyebrows, he snaps out of his trance, ”why?”

“Because,” the girl and Token said in sync, “he’s the drug lord.”

“And why the fuck is there drugs in best school in town?” Anger flashes across Tweek’s face and Token stares. “Don’t the ministry know? Or the head office?”

“Money,” Token reveals but the girl shook her head. “They don’t care about money if their reputation was jeopardize. Plus, we are talking about the headmasters here, at one of the most richest schools."

People began to scatter themselves back on the floor as Bebe Stevens exist the vicinity. Everyone acted like nothing happened and it bothers Tweek more than it should. “It can’t be,” Tweek bites his lips, ”Craig himself?” questions the blond.

The girl stirs and all shutter in respond, “maybe, though I think it’s more on the Tuckers rather than Craig.”

Tweek looks back at the position where Craig once was and a sensation fills him.

He wants to see Craig crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tweek having a fetish about Craig wasn't my plan at all but as I plan more of my chapters, I think it's a crucial detail.


	3. We Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Every one suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this is mine: I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kinda rushed this chapter so i might be updating it alot..be patient with me.

The third time Tweek met Craig was very…engrossing. It was in one of his classes-Music to be specific-and Craig with the golden hair member barges in, unannounce yet receiving all the attention. Every instruments pause in mid-air and every conversations stop mid-sentence. The girls and their surgery lips, blink greedy at the second gang member-Tweek can understand, this guy was handsome as fuck. The rest were looking worried at the blue eyes, waiting for him to pounce and capture their souls.

What was weirder was how some of the students would physically move to give them more space, as if they were a truck carrying kryptonite. Expressionless and handsomeness walk down the room, making each step bang against the non-coloured class. They wore clothes that fit the system for the first time and even Tweek admits it makes Craig look decent, if that’s even possible.

The more closer they get to Tweek, the more the room becomes creepier. 

The two boys stop right next to him making Tweek glance down to his left and back up. There were no seats in this section available but even so they stop and stare. Tweek opens his mouth, a little confused, “sorry boys don’t think there’s an available spot here.” And with a raise of his shoulders-as if he was sympathizing-he returns back to his books. No one moved an inch and he meant no one.

The blue eyes stares blankly at Tweek which made Tweek scrunches his nose up. “You are in my seat.”

Tweek looks around him, acting like he’s confuse before turning back to this guy who towers them all, “..since,” he puts his fingers to his lips, “since when was there um..a sitting arrangement because last time there wasn’t." They're in a lecture for fucks sake.

The blond hair laughs which made a couple of people laugh in return. It was weird like watching a rock being thrown in to a lake and seeing the water's reaction. It wasn’t necessary for it wasn’t exactly a joke.

And on the low, Tweek doesn’t know why he is acting this way or how he can stop it. It's just that Craig give off this sensation, an aura that makes Tweek want to break him to pieces. 

Plus he didn’t want to sit in the front.

"You are in my seat.”

Tweek looks up and tilts his head, “kinda heard you the first time. There are seats in front of the class," waves his hands up, "bye now.”

The same expression still remained in his eyes while his blond friend starts getting the clue and makes his way back down the stairs, having a little smirk on his face. Craig didn’t follow right away, he studied Tweek for a long time before making his lips quirk up in a I-want-to-tear-your-head kind of way, and produce the only other words that Tweek heard from him that day, “right.”

It was the first time that everyone gave him attention for more than one second.

 

+

“Are you crazy or a lunatic?"

Tweek sighs and sips on his black coffee that was in one of those ancient Chinese cups, “sadly both.”

They were sitting in a booth, at one of the most rich-looking store along the block. The sun was at its peek, signifying mid day. The place fills with a nice atmosphere along with a live performance and medium tone chatters. And the coffee, God, was it good.

“You just upfront a,” Token waves his hands around, “a fucking psychopath.”

“I did enjoy it.” Tweek responded, and Token stares at him as if he was talking crazy, ”look, it’s not a big deal.”

“You’re forgetting the most important part..he is part of a fucking gang.”

Tweek leans closer to his friend, looks around him before bringing his eyes to the boy in front, “a gang that can’t do nothing on school grounds.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Tweek rests back down, feeling the seat squeaks, “doesn’t it though? The only way he can get me is on campus and when have they ever killed someone here?"

Silence.

“When have they ever come close?”

Silence.

“And let’s be honest, am I the only person to be talking to them.”

“In that kind of matter, yes.”

Tweek rolls his eyes.

"Remember what Brit said, Tuckers can control the system in one touch. So even if you get killed, Craig would still be in school living his normal life. Plus you are a fucking nobody!" 

He presses his hands to his heart, "ouch, that hurts Token."

"It's the truth." Which it certainly is.

He licks the bitter water on his cup, "and I admire your concern but my memories call that Craig does his things off of school grounds and there's no way a murder can keep quiet in a school like this."

Tweek puts a finger over Token's lips, blocking his words, "plus reputation matters."

"You know it's not just him," Token breathes, "an army stands by Craig."

"And don't I have an army, Toks?" Tweek said pointing at the two body guards. Token pulls on Tweek's collar to bring him closer, "listen, I don't know what you are doing with Craig but make sure you don't put me in danger."

Tweek laughs when he lets go and raises his cup, "Token you were already in danger the moment you met me." 

 

 

+

It was annoying. The stare from each and every rich person that exists in this room filled to the capacity of books; watching how Tweek covered head to toes with blue ink. It soaks through the expensive materials and digs down to his skin. He pushes his fingers to his eyes and clean some of the ink that was gluing his lids shut. It was also very annoying seeing through the small spot that was available, across from him, the freaky weird kid. He soaks the seat with his fucking fake gross smile splattered on his face. The more the distance between him and this guy decreases, the more his smile lifts. Around him sits Bebe and Wendy, both invested in their conversations.

“Could I help you?” He asks, having his fix grin on his face. His eyes stay the same like the day before.

Tweek was livid.

“Actually you could,” Tweek said, sitting down and watching both girls look between the two, ”I, not known well for my detective skills but I am suspecting you of doing this crime,” he points to his head and drags his finger along his body. Some of the blue liquid drips on the wonderful French carpet. Tweek doesn’t care because of all things Craig could have done, he is acting like an immature by splashing him in paint.

Craig’s mouth lights up, in a real kind of way but didn't say anything.

“Silence, I see, ” Tweek scowls getting up and trying his best not to slip back in his own liquid, “but don’t think this is going to change anything, Craig. Gather your little group and come and do whatever you want but you will never make me act like them.”

He flicks some of the ink on to the carpet, making it bleed with that colour. Would he get in trouble? Maybe, but that was a problem to be discuss later. Now, all he cares about is getting the ink off his hair.

“You think you’re so fucking tough, Tweek, don’t you?" Craig said, his eyes flashing signs of danger and he bends forward clasping his hands together, “if it wasn’t for this fucking campus and you were out in the real world you wouldn’t be alive to say these things.”

"Funny thing is, this is the real world and you haven't touch a hair on my body except for your stupid pranks. And you never will anywhere else, Craig Tucker!"

For a moment, just for one, Tweek saw a flash of something deeper in his eyes. It was dark and moody, like its instinct was to kill or something more. Tweek can't describe it. Anger. Determination. Rage. Exasperation. Irritation. It was wild and thirst quenching, making Tweek more eager than before. He got a taste of it, Craig’s feelings even in a dangerous way. Though he was still far from cracking. The two ladies rise from their seats but Craig waves them off, like servants. Tweek flips around and walks away, feeling chills run down his spine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sasssy Tweek at it again with his sass


	4. Crazy Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You see I usually find myself among strangers because I drift here and there trying to forget the sad things that happened to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update, this chapter took some time because of school and how fucking long it is. But neither less, I hope you enjoy it.

“You are fascinating, you know that?” Kenny McCormick expounded with both sides of his mouth outstretching to the top of his cheeks, “to think a lowborn like you would stand up to Blue Phoenix,” a modest motion of his hands, fingers spread apart with discipline amount, “twice.”

Tweek had his paw encased around the rigid steal twig. It shifts left and right, applying ink along the wordless paper and writes down summarizes of what the professor is sprouting. She, on the other hand, is upright in the foreground, opening her mouth and banging the board with immense force-her French accent escaping to her students’ minds. A long white dress exits from her and sparkles the more she stirs in her spot.

It was his fifth lecture in Music and ‘azure eyes’ was not present leading to poor Tweek having to place himself near Kenny. Kenny was located two millimeters from Tweek, yes two fucking millimeters because this guy does not know what personal space is. He can smell his cologne and it hurts his nostrils of how durable and obnoxious it was. The fragrance was inexpensive and occupys with the most unattractive smells, identical to rolling in cow shit. How do girls snog this guy’s neck with his smell? He can understand why they drool but not why they cling. And why was he wearing something from the thrift store?

“What do you want from me?” Tweek questions, carrying his eyes to Kenny’s direction, who gives him an even brighter grin. The lame part is that it wasn’t oppressed or mock-up, it was genuine a smile. And it was unnatural because everyone he’d met always carry around a fake enormous grin-white and shining but completely artificial.

“Nothing,” Kenny slants back on his chair and jolts his hands to the back of his head, “just talking to a fascinating dude in a fascinating lecture about fascinating things.”

“Big words,” Tweek mumbles which sprouts a laugh from golden boy over here. His ringlets bounce on his features and Tweek get to see a peak of the man behind the curtains. He had warm sapphire eyes and his face had scars that were established ages ago. Under the gates to his soul were bags, lusting themselves down his skin. Lips were dry yet swollen, which is very rare because none of these people have complexions that was within reach to Kenny’s. It was like this individual came from a darker place than Tweek and had very big objects rejecting him as he climbs up to this position. “I have high regards for you,” Kenny expresses, digging his chin in his arms, “you are not like the others.”

Tweek observes Kenny with his eyebrows in crease with questions. The statement was purgative, teasing Tweek with so many emotions. Does he know about all the acts that all these rich people come up with? Does he mean something else? Is he testing me? Can he read my mind and hear all these theories?

After a minute with no response, Kenny swings his arms over Tweek, answering two questions at once, “it’s meant to be a compliment.”

“I’m aware.” Tweek said, moving more to his left. It didn’t change Kenny’s demeanor.

Silence explodes over the two and Tweek sighs in relief. He felt his back fully unknot on the wooden stool and his arms becoming less tense. It wasn’t like he hates talking to Kenny, it’s just that he rather not associate with people who are friends with someone that wants to kill hm. Kenny is much more appealing than Token, in a fair abundance. The last time Token and him had a conversation was when Token talked about the many branches of wine and how he owns them all. And before that was the choice of shoes for today. God, those were fun to listen to. Plus Kenny is more relatable and sincere, like a true friend.

“Hey, do you want to come to a dinner party with me?”

Abrade everything that he just articulated.

“And why would I attend such thing,” Tweek flips Kenny’s arms off of him, “plus those are more like a close friend things, not a hey this is my acquaintance kind of thing.” Tweek looks down on the space that Kenny occupied and saw nothing-no utensils, no papers and no devices. Good luck on the exam.

Kenny perches his hands right next to Tweek’s, using his pinky to make contact with his friend’s, “acquaintance? I look at you as a brother.”

Before abolishing his arm from Kenny’s collision, Tweek spins his eyes. “Plus I was suppose to go with Craig but he’s busy off doing something else.” Sulks the golden hair as he secures himself on to Tweek’s arm and purr. Okay, maybe that commentary was a little too much but that was what it felt like. Like it’s Kenny here, everything needs to be a little exaggerated because this is what this guy radiates off. 

Though, the more realistic view of what he did was, stretch those brilliant arms of his and laid his head on the table with his needy eyes glancing directly at Tweek.

“What is he doing? Plotting another prank?” Tweek groans because this have been the seven prank he had went through. Each getting worser than the previous. One prank was gluing his door shut (Token was very angry) and the next was sending a bunch of students to his door thinking there was a party (Token was very very angry).

“No, I doubt. This job will keep him occupy for a long time.”

Job. That’s a good word to put it. Is he importing cocaine from Ireland? Is he selling people into a sex trade? Is he killing someone slowly in his basement? Is he making weed down in his basement and selling them to those crums who live on the side walk outside of this campus? Just a job, right.

Tweek flips to the back side of his paper before asking, “what about his lectures?”

“Looks like someone cares for their tormentor.”

As if. “I mean it’s useless to have to pay for classes you don’t attend.”

Kenny hauls his crown up slightly, supplying some time for him to anticipate. He lazily pushes his thumbs to his teeth, chewing on it till the nail was trim. “It’s up to Craig to miss his lectures.”

“And you don’t care,” Tweek laughs sourly, pointing the pen back to the paper, “expected of you riches.”

Those pupils dig their graves on Tweek’s front. It was intense, sending waves that are dangerous on the spectrum onto his epidermis. It scrutinize the increase and decrease of every acne on the blond’ face, writing down each and every chromosome code that causes the break outs and the actual thing. “I do care, a lot, but you can’t control the outcome of things that you have no control over.”

The lecture was finish, so was their conversation.

Kenny slid out his chair in a motionless-fashion-kinda-way while Tweek gaze at his paper, penetrating it with his soul. The sentence froze his whole existence, building networks in his brain and connecting some dots. It wasn’t because of the words but rather the vocalization behind it. It was the first time he heard Kenny felt so wounded and so remote as if it wasn’t meant for only him-only the new kid. Before Tweek could say anything-neither less apologize-Kenny was already outside, gone, into the crowd.

Tweek egresses only after the room was wipe away with students. He collects his personals and rushes out of this malevolent room. The wind pummels him like a truck, spreading his lungs to its fullest. It was currently autumn, seeing the dead leaves lay staring at the sky and the chill creeping up. As he saunters along the sidewalk, cram with the most enrich flowers and the rarest-along with statues that conduct water from their mouth, Tweek passes a couple of people having a picnic. They thronged around their ancient table and fancy tea cups, words sneaking up their faces. There was also a projector up, showing a man playing the smooth album of Elvis on a violin. Turning his attention back to his destination, Tweek catches-in the far distance-a gathering but before his brain process anything, his phone rings.

He runs his thumbs along the surface, feeling the smooth heated device. It picks up.

Silence. “Hey Tweekers.”

“Very accurate timing, Clyde,” Tweek exhales, retrieving his headphones. The white product was a knot in his pocket but being very lazy, he decided to just jam the thing in to the destination port. Like why bother untangling when it’s going to be tangled back again?

“Well, how is ye new life?” The group collected more students, yet Tweek paid no attention as he makes his way down that road.

“Great..just great. Except that this school is filled with crazy people who met Zac Efron fifty times. Like seriously, who meets him that many times?” ‘Met’ wasn’t the only thing that they bragged about.

There was a huge sound, static like, that Tweek had to take out both headphones. After that extent of volume decreases, the headphones went right back up and cozies his ear-along with the tip of Tweek’s mouth. Man, he misses his best friend.

“So how’s um..” Tweek runs a hand through his hair, feeling the autumn breeze blow through the part he carved. It went along his scalp and drizzles his skin like washing your hair with cold water.

“They’re great Tweek, surviving barely but great.”

Pause. “I know I shouldn’t have-“

“Tweek listen to me,” Clyde cuts in, “you know what they told people? They told people that their son is enrolled in the best school. Quote, the fucking best school, end quote. They told people that they couldn’t be happier that their son is going to be a star. Tweek, they were so happy just knowing you got in.” Tweek’s heart broke in two and felt like someone picked it up and just kept on jumping on it harder and harder, “that’s all they talk about.”

He was almost right beside the big herd and Tweek starts to take in how large it was. “Yeah?”

“I swear on the old gods and the new.” Both of them exploded in to laughter. It was a quick memento to their past, the obsession they had as an infant. They even played out the characters from Game of Thrones in their little group and it was the best thing that happened back then. Now, that was probably the 50th best thing that happened.

“God, speaking of money I need to get a job.”

“Still got loans to pay?”

“Sadly, yes.”

There was a shout heard in the distant background. It was from two different voices, one was almost similar to...

“There is this taco place that isn’t fill with snobs that talk about Zac Efron.” Clyde said, keys were hit to produce a harmony through the phone.

“Here? On campus?”

“Surprisingly yes,” Tweek has now infiltrated the circumference of the group and can hear chatters clearly. The shouting went up in loudness, making Tweek curse in silence of how annoying everyone were and still are. “It’s on the edge actually between the campus and the neighborhood. Uh…let me see….Ah! Persun’s road.”

Persun’s road? Never heard of it.

“Hey, isn’t that Kenny?” One girl said, after joining the group.

“Yeah...” Was what another member answered.

“..And Eric Cartman.” That name wasn’t good reaching Tweek’s ears. In fact, none of those names sounded good to his ears and definitely not when they are said with an conjunction. He discontinues his sentence and rotates to the group.

What was Kenny doing with the headmaster’s son?

“Hey Tweek, you still with me?”

“Sorry Clyde, I’ll call you back.” Before he heard Clyde’s response, he was pushing through the crowd to get to the front. Shoving aside very noble men and stepping on toes of fancy footwear, feeling the bones cursing underneath. The conversation still sounded fuzzy but he could tell the two figures were not having a good interaction. Kenny laying almost lifeless on the ground, bruises lighting his countenance and Cartman reining over him, a smile on his.

His feathered brown hair sags on his sweaty forehead. He wore suits duplicate to Token’s but the sizes contrasted. Brown eyes roam across from him and his chubby cheeks rebounded every time he exhales through his big nostrils. There were similar sets of features that connect him to his father-the headmaster of South Park Ecole Des Arts, making him a predominate figure on the campus.

“Where is he?” Cartman yells, sending another fist ranging across Kenny’s face. “Where is the Blue Phoenix?”

Kenny spits out the blood that was coated up in his mouth. Purple was the colour of the skin surrounding his eyes making the sapphire pigment bold itself with its distant look. Cuts scrape themselves on his lips, acting as if they were fresh wounds. Even so, no words exit his mouth which just angered Cartman more and more. His skin determines that.

Tweek was so close and the more it became so, the more people won’t budge. They just stand there in shock not at all helping the poor man that they idolize, that they associated with. He was tortured, publicly tortured and his head was swinging so low it looks like he was already unconscious, yet no one is saying anything. Tweek really needs to get to the front.

“Aren’t you ashamed? Standing up to your headmaster.”

“You...are...not..the headmaster.” Wham!

Tweek was merely a feet away from Kenny but all he sees is the many bodyguards sealing the entrance to this small arena. Their shoulders point to the sky and wires travel from their brains to their ears.

“I’ll expel you one day, you and your phony gang.” He inclines closer to Kenny’s face and uses his square hands to hold up his chin, “I know what the Tuckers did to my father.” He flicks the blood off of his lips, “you do too, don’t you?”

By now, only one of Kenny’s eyes was not glued shut and with that available part, he looks up to see the wicked smile that skates across Cartman’s face. “I..have..no idea..what you are talking about.” He said through his swollen lips and chipped teeth.

Cartman laughs and another fist hits Kenny’s skin. “Don’t give me that response. I know! I KNOW! The Tuckers love to play innocent with my dad, don’t they? But guess what? I’m back and I won’t be going to my dad, now. Would I?”

Cartman drags Kenny’s head up by the hair and his face was awful. You can barely see anything related to his features because of the river of blood extending from his forehead. Also, it was deformed and it looks more like an allergic reaction than what it’s suppose to look like.

“You aren’t the cute boy that they ideal, now are you?” Wham!

It was enough. Tweek have been pushing along the bodyguards for minutes but they won’t move (which isn’t rocket science, they are fucking bodyguards but he still tries) neither would they acknowledge him. He was like a feather to this large building, demanding an entrance.

Tweek wasn’t stopping, though, instead he was going to vocalize his actions, making this scene commence to a pause. He opens his mouth and take in all the air he can withstand, feeling his body lifts up. Then in lack of minutes to spear, he let out all the air, all the carbon dioxide that it takes for his brain to make the loudest sound, for words to be bouncing off of the crowd and nearby buildings but nothing was form.

Why? A hand was covering his mouth.

“Pathetic!” Cartman yells in his face, “fucking pathetic! You can’t even defend yourself! What even made you accepted here? What makes a scum like you be in my school.”

Kenny laughs faintly, dropping his head from Cartman’s grip, “at least my father would believe what I say.”

The next few sounds were never meant to be on school grounds neither were they ever to be produce from Kenny. It was painful to hear and to observe that the tears in Tweek’s eyes began to form from this torture. He didn’t even know Kenny like the Phoenixes knew him but these actions that were directed to him were inhumane, never meant to be expose from a living thing no matter the wrongs they did.

Cartman marches away from his project, scraping off his bloody white gloves. “You should care about your life more Kenny,” he gave his belongings to one of his protectors, “it would have been easier to not bring the Scotch boy in to this.”

Only then did Kenny’s face darkens and show some sort of emotion throughout this scene, “leave…. Butters…” Kenny coughs out blood, “out of this.”

“Would I? I’m afraid not.”

“He didn’t do anything!” Tweek was fumbling with the hand on his mouth, he bites, his spits but just like the body guards-it was motionless. His turns his vision to this obstacle that forges him to his spot and the person who controls his movements. What he found was a set of long blond curls, dangling from said shoulders. Bebe was holding him down, her eyes stain on Kenny.

“Yes, but he has a nasty secret that you are dying to protect.” Cartman said, making Kenny rise to his feet only to be facing the ground, once again. Cartman was laughing an obnoxious laugh and converging force on Kenny’s back as he made progress. Kenny’s whims gets louder and louder, the blood roams further and further. 

“After this is all over, follow the crowd and disappear. Do not hinger to help Kenny and don’t rush to anyone with help, they won’t believe or they’ll turn you in, to Cartman.” Her lips were brushing the skin above Tweek’s earlobe, and the sound she makes was unreadable, yet soft.

Despite that, Tweek was still in rage, emotions still swarming around him and ready to burst at any given second. 

“Do this for our safety and for yours.” Her body began to decline from Tweek’s and at the few seconds before she disappears, she said, “and don’t ever tell Craig about this..”

 

 

+

 

The segment was discoloured in Tweek’s intellectual-capacities. The unremitting flow of blood and the relentless abuse were all so compelling. Scars undertake their territory on Kenny’s aesthetic features, scouring down to his chin. The window to his soul were sealed shut, amounting to any movement that provides vision. The way his body twitches from the luxury force of Cartman’s arm was undesirable, so undeserving.

It was like a repetitive pattern; lesions, hits and cries. Everyone observed with their nessicitous eyes, yearning for something vigorous to enlift their dull day. No one helped, no one sided this boy that make girl’s drool and men laugh.

Tweek ogles at his ceiling, his ears encircled with the exquisite music escaping from his speakers.

He blinks, absorbing the sensation of his eyelashes trembling towards a lower position on his face. After a deep breath, he reopens to gaze-once again-to the tangible object that shelters him.

Tweek gyrates to his side and grabs his phone, squinting to see his home screen before typing in his password and scrolling to Clyde’s contract. His fingers elevate over the call bottom, contradicting himself on his previous idea.

The phone went back into sleep motion and Tweek’s head hits the pillow.

He needs a walk or wine, if Token is too keen to give him. He can’t stay in this place, this unemotional school where people exist based off of their currency.

Tweek doesn’t belong here, he belongs in a simpler place where people sold drinks less than twenty dollars. Or where the doors that you go through is open by oneself not by foot movements or-

Tweek’s whole body jumps up, he grabs his phone and jumps off the bed.

He grazes to the entrance of his washroom with a word flooding his mind, Persun’s road.

 

 

+

“Where do you think you’re going, this late,” Token asks, his face at an angle of 45 degrees and covered up in his gold coloured night gown.

“Very very interesting question,” Tweek said, strolling in reverse to Token, along the wolf’s fur carpet, “where do you think I’m going?”

“No where relevant,” the dark tone boy takes a sip of his red stain glass. His hands oscillate, while his body laid dead on the furniture.

“Then there you have it, monsieur.” Tweek bows down and steps forward before being stop by Token’s ability to continue this interaction.

“First of all not finish yet, secondly that wasn’t even an answer and thirdly..what is with those clothes.”

“These are my favorites!” Tweek chokes, grabbing his shirt that says ‘Boom!’ on it. He was also wearing his ripped-up jeans and his white vans. The other speaker, back straight up along the couch now, squints his eyes and frowned, “certainly not mine.”

Tweek raises his hands in a pleading motion, “look, I don’t have time to chit-chat so could I burrow your limo,” he points to the door, “and go?”

“Not in those clothes.”

Tweek pinches his nose and shuts his eyes, “you’re not my-“

“Not in those clothes.”

“But-”

“I said what I said, you will not be looking like that after using my limo,” Token bows down, “monsieur.”

Tweek growls, “I’m only going to be in your stupid car for the entire time, not getting out or bringing in anyone. Just a small drive, okay?”

Token’s beefy eyes studies him. He knows Tweek by now, with the amount of researching he’s been doing. His mouth opens for a bit before coming to his conclusion, “fine,” he blinks up with a cold expression, “your life. Just please, if someone ask if it’s my limo, say no.”

Tweek lets out a sigh and went to the entrance, “also just another little favour, don’t send Oscar, I think I’m fine on my own.”

And with that he retreats out the door and dashes to the elevator. “Come on, come on.” Tweek said, pushing the button that has an arrow pointing down. There was a ding and the elevator unfasten, steadily. It took some time and while Tweek was observing the two concrete thing sliding to their ports, he got a glance of a strand of blond hair-not Kenny’s kind but one that flows only to the left of his face. There was a huge scar from his eyebrows to his chin and the boy-or man for that matter-had this depressing look as if he was going to a funeral. Tweek steps in and realizes that this man was not alone but instead had a lady with hair colour so brown folding her arms and a stern expression.

“That boy got what he deserves,” the girl huff-a hint of Canadian accent in her voice, “serves him right for going against his superior.”

“He was standing up for me,” was what the blond said.

“He should have gotten more than that for standing up for you.”

The blond looked down and open his mouth but didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“He doesn’t.”

The girl slaps him in the face.

“Do you still have feelings for him, you gay-tard,” she pushes him, “you’re with me now, you hear! You only look at me, you’ll only talk to me.” She pokes him in his ribs and a small nod came from the blond.

The elevator door rings and the lady steps out. Taking a deep breath, the blond too follow her movements before looking back and staring at Tweek’s shirt, a smile-so untouchable-hits his face.

 

“Where to?” Was what Tweek was greeted by when he reached his floor.

“Persun’s r-wow.” Tweek’s eyes was running wildly at Token’s garage. It was enormous and it’s capacity was filled with hundreds of vehicles, all being Hyper-sports. The paint and the structures scream how expensive they are, and Tweek can imagine the sound they actually make. The walls being white-Tweek wasn’t surprise at all by that-made these heavenly gifts look gorgeous in the dim of the fake lights.

Tweek can just sleep here.

“Umm..Mr. Tweak?”

Tweek’s head spins around, “Oh yeah, sorry, I said Persun’s road.”

The driver nods and Tweek still awed while getting in the car.

Driving through the campus at night was alarming, not because of the ambitious fear of Craig appearing out of nowhere and slitting his throat, no, but because it felt so inhabited. In every mansion that they pass, the walls  are whispering. It’s whispering the loneliness of the person living there, the emotions that they need to function as humans. It’s whispering secrets that are all covered up by a fake smile and mostly it’s whispering help.

Even those with a little music pumping into the twilight, it screams more as if it ever did before. It’s a warning that Tweek needs to get away from.

The limo exits the unoccupied sector as it cruises pass the hindmost mansion and went into a fern-like terrain. The cows and the sleepless sheeps, moan into the coat of darkness and chew on the green fertile land below them. It was cute, seeing this livelihood of animals in the late night, all gathering to feast.

For a couple more minutes, the car drifts on and animals seem to decrease in population. Eventually, there wasn’t any in sight and the new set of area kicks in.

The car began to slow down into a compact town. In this setting, the houses were dissimilar than ones on the campus. They were poor, the poorest than anything Tweek have encountered. Roofs were being remodeled with different materials, people still walking on the road-by themselves. The smell of cheap alcohol and money was overwhelming. There were even shoutings and gunshots heard, if you pay attention.

And the walls, this time, scream for money.

“Thanks, um..just stay here will you?” Tweek said, closing the door with a muffled sound from the driver. He runs to the light post and took out his GPS. Then, he followed his roots, turning on one block and again on the other.

Eventually, he reaches Papa Tacos where he strengthens up and went in. The store was run down, and the words that were suppose to light up, were not. The window was foggy-evidence of the uncleanliness in the store. Yet, if Tweek wants a job this is the right place to go.

The door shimmers under his impact and Tweek went up to the cashier, a cigar between his lips and hairline decreasing every second of the day.

“Um..hello?”

The person looks up from his newspaper and closes it, “what ya want?”

“I heard you were hiring so I thought I can hand in my resume.”

The man sighs and then turns his head, “go take a seat, Papa would be right with ya.”

Then before Tweek could move, the man shouts, “Papa, some boy want tha see ya.”

“Tell him me coming.”

The man turned to Tweek, “he coming.”

“Okay,” Tweek said fixing his collar. He sat down on a broken up stool and looked around. Inside was worser than outside. On some tables were garbages from previous consumers and were never cleaned. The walls were red and stripped off their paint. The floor was damaged that some parts had gaping holes.

Tweek adjusted himself on the seat and whipes his forehead. He looks down his body and realizes he was sweating. It was blazing hot in here or maybe just Tweek’s own nervousness, nonetheless he starts to have water lining themselves up on his face.

He gets up and walks to the man, who in return sighs again. “I’m just going to the washroom.”

“Fine by me. Just head down and go to the left.”

Tweek nods and walks to the open room with a toilet and a sink. He pushed himself to the mirror and splashes water on his face.

“Just another job, you can do-“

Bam!

“What the fuck?” Tweek said, dropping down. It was gun shots, and it was in this perimeter.

Tweek rushes to the door, opening it slowly and tip-toeing to see if there was any intruders (also to escape). From his spot, he saw the cashier’s head on the counter and the red liquid pouring down the obstacle. 

Before he can run back to the washroom or even take out his phone, someone grabs him and Tweek felt a cold metal object hitting the skin beneath his hair. Some of his strands went into the hole that the gun provided and Tweek curses under his breath.

“Well, well, look who we have here.” The voice was familiar, too familiar. It makes Tweek’s hairs fly up and his skin itches away from his body.

“Tweek Tweak outside of campus.” The voice laughs in the close distance, a malevolence kind. Creepier with the fact that he knows his full name.

Tweek turns his head to face the black hair boy and his wide blue eyes.

Craig was looking at him, crazily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it’s Craig’s turn to be naughty. ;)


	5. The Phoenixes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess who stayed up at 4 to finish this chapter for y’all? Not me, lol I stayed up till 2.

There were superlative words being interchange and various individuals securing Tweek’s hands-he was notified by the consistency of their skins. Various were stiff and inelastic, while others contain a softer tone with delicate and frail rebounds. Though, he is not aware of the conditions that he had just got himself into. Everything is proceeding at an unnerving rate and the authenticity that Craig is an exterminator and his motivations to kill Tweek may actually come true, fuels his conscious more. This whole entire day just isn’t his.

For certain, he perceived that he got into a car-well, attacked into an odourless carriage-and is being taken to someone’s basement, maybe-and most likely-Craig’s (the whispers of basement was heard throughout the lonely minutes). Though, he couldn’t foresee if his hypothesis was definite with these blindfolds on, gripping components of his hair around his lobes. The solitary things that are not blinded by the appliances that enlighten his body were his feet, and they travel through all kinds of substances.

In this contemporary moment, he is being governed down in to a subterraneous tunnel, which is an appreciable distance from the transport automobiles. On either side of him, he feels-or apprehended-shoes crunching the gravel below their sole and taken captive the materials on the fabric. The breeze punches his skin, harshly, also giving clue to the whereabouts of this foreign environment. Usually, windy weathers equal open field. 

“It’s fine from here,” Craig announced into the undisclosed surrounding, his voice as emotionless as ever, yet deep and driven. The other colleagues must have agreed, for whoever’s feet accompanied them, started to work its movements backwards. There was, as well, another subsequently sound, a earth throbbing blare that causes Craig to gate-crash the bumper.

“Murder! Murder!” Tweek wails, from his confined mouth the instant Craig disconnected the captivating strings. His hands shuffle behind his face, bringing his body as close to Tweek as he can. A swift of the scent of smoke came from him, concluding to Tweek scrunching up his nose. Then, after some time, Craig commanded him on a furniture and cloaked wires-so unpremeditated-around his wrists. “You still have a big mouth even in a situation like this.” Hands render themselves to a higher level of intensity on Tweek’s visage to detach another black cloth that snatches his face.

“What should I do? Get on my knees and plead to you? After you ended that man’s life, I rather be dead than ever be controlled by you!” Tweek hisses, making Craig furrowed his eyebrows in a knot. The colossal man, wearing his jacket so boldly, inclines closer to Tweek’s face but instead of stating anything, he tightens the wires.

“You really are strange,” he dips his head, glimpsing up and down Tweek’s body, empty stare, wide eyes, “or maybe just stupid.”

Craig, then, rencountered his steps and gramps throughout the division to get an questionable object. Only at that instant, did Tweek see the domain where they administered him to. It was a miniature room, no windows and no light except for the candle in the right hand region of this venue. The floor was of metallic textile and the walls, in some portions of the light, were blue. The only three things that were in the space were chairs-in which Tweek sat, a table with gadgets on it and the one large painting of a bald guy, looking hateful at the flooring.

Tweek’s perspective, after, proceeds to Craig’s back, spotting the dimples that set in his neck. His hair stops right above those imperfections, creasing lines along his smooth epidermis. He hunches over, an empirical evidence of weight he carries on his shoulders, and shallow breaths exist from his noiseless mouth. He seems so innocent, Tweek thought, so innocent from the back like a little kitty found in a box, with water emanating from the heavens…..

But he’s a bloody murder.

“Why?” Tweek interrogates, vibrating his head and jotting his pupils down to the floor as the images of the man’s brain flashes violently in his head. "Why..why would you murder....” Tweek lowers his voice, “that innocent man.”

A snigger came from Craig, his shoulders rush in patterns. "Innocent? That man, innocent?" Another laugh, his eyes widen with hunger, "there is no such thing as innocent...especially in this world we live in." His butt leans on the timid table. "Innocent is what people perceived in the light of justice, it is an ideology in which, innocent, is the name given to your favorable side. It is also what the mind comes up with to sympathize." Craig's hands lift up the gun and point it to his side, "that man was simply, not innocent."

Craig revolved his gun, repetitively, until his hand got weakened from the heavy steel and rests it back on the wooden surface, soundlessly. Tweek hangs his head, his shoulders contrasting to the sudden force on it. The sweat on his forehead announces itself on his throat, collecting the dust that soaks in his pores.

”That’s a lie.”

Craig halts his actions. It was dead silence after that, and not the nice one either. Tweek glares at Craig, watching how his hand freezes above the table and the other, on it. At the scene on his shoulders, you can see a vein, merging up from the skin beneath and was ready to explode in to millions of pieces, splattering their DNA structural code to the abiotic things in this area.

Though, before it can commence its plan, Craig saunters steadily to Tweek with, of course, his gun escorting him. Despite all the ‘danger’ warnings, Tweek continues, testing-always testing his waters. “That man was for sure innocent, you were just a bloody monster,” Craig clasps strands of Tweek’s hair and tips the gun to his face, “you really want to die? Because I can make an arrangement for that.”

“But we won’t be doing that, now Craig? Don’t forget the number one rule, no killing _Tiars_..” A soft undivulged voice declares, constructing Craig’s expression to change from a hint of monstrous to a gamma of blank glares, “we don’t want that accident to happen again.”

“Why are you here, Stan?” Craig growls, smashing his gun to the occupied table.

“To see my old friend, of course,” Stan said, in a sluggish voice. He stretches, straightening his arms far apart then embraces Craig into a hug-which, Craig did not budge. Instead, he leans back and pushes his hands up and down Stan’s forearms, begging for release. “Where have you been, my brother? Taking orders from Chef’s grave?” Stan lays his hands on Craig’s shoulders, his teeth blazing in the night atmosphere.

“You really need to make that tongue of yours stop moving.” A warning glare was being exchange for a welcoming smile.

“-or, are we doing new business,” Stan pages his lips closer to Craig’s and connects his blue raving eyes with Tweek’s confused. It shows evidence of alcohol abuse in his system, diluting some of his pupils brilliant enlightened colours.

Tweek watches how Stan sticks on to Craig, like peanut butter on a bread, “from the old big ma-”

The scenery changes into a critical situation in a blink of an eye. The cold metallic object, different from the Desert Eagle that sleeps in the distant ends of the room, had a sharp sliver steel directing its course to Stan’s temple, a sweat was seen running away from the man’s hairline, “I told you to shut up.”

Stan laughs, not at all shakened by Craig’s sudden outburst (Tweek winced). “Alright, alright.” Stan began to make his way to Tweek’s designation, finally putting his full attention on the fellow.

He bends down to be on the same level as Tweek, pushing his drunken eyes on him, “and who is this man?”

“If you’d stop breathing in my face, I’ll tell you.” Tweek cuts Craig off, sending a sea worth of daggers to Stan’s features, the other man rubs his chin.

“Wow, boast personality.” Stan jumps up and puts his hands on his hips, “kinda reminds me of someone over here,” he points to the Blue Phoenix, “ah, looks like you found your soul mate.” His hair bounces from his shoulder as he chuckles.

“Eww.” Both sang together, before exchanging looks. 

“What have you done!” Another voice decided to impact their petite moment. A flock of red hair came speeding down the shadowy staircase before their hands collided with Craig’s muscles, “are you stupid? Or..or deaf? What happens to the policy of not bringing in witnesses to your shootings-“ Tweek notices the plural “-do you want to get us lock up?!” 

“I slacked off for this one, Kyle, I didn’t check the store because it was small and late,” Craig responded, making Kyle slap a hand over his face.

“And you decided to tie him up in your basement? Instead of just fleeing the scene?” Kyle questions, his features redder than Tweek had ever seen anyone before. The small yet provoked man compresses his nose under his short cut nails to keep his head from being a weapon of massacres.

“Even I know that’s what I should have done, you take me for a kid sometimes, red head,” Craig scowls, crossing his hands and seeing his eyelashes flutter on his delicate skin, “that’s not why I brought him here.”

“So tell me, what is your reason Craig? To bring someone that is not listed as a Serpent to your fucking basement, huh? Tell me, because I’m so fucking con-”

“Kenny didn’t show up for his section, today,” Craig interrupted, rolling his eyes when Kyle gave him a dirty look. He unlocks his hands and strolls away from his audience-in the viewpoint of the dying candle, “Cartman is back,” he leads his hands to his spine-where skin is seen being shaped, folding them over his harden jacket, “Cartman hates The Phoenixes and Kenny had a lesson today.” He turns, dramatically-the candle light casting a creepy look on his harden countenance. His eyes were no longer blue but the colour of the flames, burning wildly and when he speaks, Tweek swear he could have heard the devil speaking instead, “and guess who’s deciding to plot their revenge in front of campus, with him (Craig addresses Tweek) being involved.”

Tweek swallows, not because of the creepy atmosphere that Craig tried to create (Like really? That’s his best?) but because of the words that were spoken from Bebe Stevens. The harsh tone and simple sentences were echoing in his ears. Do not tell Craig. Do not tell Craig.

Kyle’s eyes were stain on Tweek, now and Stan yawns. “Kenny might just be staying over someone’s place or just be visiting someone.”

“His phone was smash, Kyle,” Craig argues, bringing out something from his pocket and throwing it to the one he addressed. “That was left on Chef’s grave.” The device was crumbled up and when Kyle looked at it, he looked in fear. A red print was seen on the rusty surface, Tweek couldn’t really read the words but judging from Kyle’s face, it wasn’t something nice. “This..this..could be anyone,” he turns to Stan and hands him the object, “we have a lot of enemies.”

“No, that’s definitely Cartman’s handwriting,” Stan said, getting up, his sober form now present.

“But I thought you took care of him,” Kyle said, horror hitting his face, “why’s he back?”

“You should ask my parents, not me.” His eyes harden.

“So what if those are true, there’s thousands and thousands of kids that were on the campus, what makes you think he off all people would know?” Yea, why him of all people, Tweek thinks, biting on his bottom lip as hard as he can.

“Well first, he was in that place at the right time. Second, he's in our lecture so there might have been a probability of him catching something if it did happen and lastly," Craig said, “he isn’t like the others, look at his clothing. Something is not right about him."

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Omg, why haven’t I seen this before.”

“Hey, in my defence, these are the best clothes I’ve ever worn.”

All three exchanged looks.

Tweek huffs.

“Plus, I honestly don’t know what happened to Kenny. It’s not like I’m always with him. The last time I saw him was when he existed out of Music class,” Tweek lies, avoiding the radiating glares from the three prosecutors. A beam of sweat ran down his cheek.

“See, I told you,” Kyle responded, Craig just looks at him.

“He’s lying.” Craig states simply, resting his back on the wall. Tweek glares at him, “I’m not.”

“Your left eye twitches when you answered,” Craig explains, concluding in Stan and Kyle looking at each other.

“What-no it does not,” a blush creeps upon Tweek’s cheek. Craig kept his never-ending stare, though somewhere, Tweek can swear he saw a little amusement in those beefy eyes.

“It does.”

Kyle faces Craig once more. “Uh! Just end it Craig, you’re wasting precious time on stupid things!” Kyle stomps to the counter. “Stan, untie him,” he points at Craig, “you, come with me.”

Kyle shoves Craig’s arm for him to proceed in the same movements and in the silence of the night, an ‘ouch!’ was the response from the lanky boy. They disappear into the gloom, agreeing with the darkness to eat them up. Stan, always giving his obnoxious yet sort of welcoming smile, strolls behind Tweek and bends down, he then was fighting with the knots that are making Tweek’s skin glued to the chair.

“We are actually good people, believe me.” Stan mumbles, fussing with the long strings. 

“I beg to differ,” Tweek scowls and a chuckle was heard from the raven head.

“Despite what Craig here said, you were just at the wrong moment for a first interpretation, but swear to God we only do this for justice.” Tweek remembers the words being said on campus about them, the brutality of their actions and the quenching of their thirst for murder. That was the first interpretation that was officially set in his mind, but slowly-just slowly-it’s changing and not because of the ‘calming’ (really do note the sarcasm) words from Stan but because of the fact that they care about each other, in this so called gang.

That’s what the people on campus failed to do. 

There were more sounds before Stan bursts out with a ‘ah!’ then allowing his feet to elevate him. Tweek stands shortly, rubbing his arms, and feeling his hands lighter.

He clears his throat.

“So...do I just go?” Tweek asks, not sure if the situation was resolved and he’d be safe on his own.

Stan looks at him, confuse, “go? To where?”

“To campus, of course…”

Stan laughs, “you do realize the gate closes over the weekend.”

“Gates?” Tweek raises his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, the one you passed on your way here.” Tweek looks at the floor, he doesn’t remember passing gates.

“Still clueless here.”

Stan laughs.

“They are hidden in the fields, some cows here and there."

Tweek shakes his head, so Stan continues. “They should have told you once you enrolled here. It’s this advance technology thing that they came up with, the fields are actually invisible weaponry forces that turns on during the weekends to keep us away and if you pass it then,” he glances at the blond boy, “you stayed in an unconscious state for the rest of your life.” And this was all said with a serious expression.

“Why would they kick you out over the weekends but let you stay over the weekdays? Why would they even..even do something like that?” Tweek asks, rushing all his words out as if there was limited time.

“We were never meant to be enrolled at this school. It was the Tuckers who allowed us to stay at this institution for our education, though this doesn’t change the fact that the school still loathed us. We learn only over the weekdays. It's not like we have lectures on the weekends.”

“You see, we are always looked at as The Phoenixes, never as a student or a son or even as a citizen. They let our silly rumours throw us off-to make us even more divided. We don’t kill just because we like it, we kill because we don’t have anyone to be the police...in action. We are a poor state, a poor community and even if Craig helped us without/with his parents’ acknowledgements...it’s just never enough.”

He rotates to Tweek, who had on a studying expression. “And I’m not saying this to frighten you, just want you to understand.”

Why? 

Why do all of this?

“I believe you.” Tweek cuts Stan off, feeling Stan pause then direct a smile at him. If you would have told this to Tweek a day or two before, he would have laughed in your face but now..he sees what Stan is talking about. He sees the lack of police. He sees the wealthy vs the starving. He sees the rumours that makes everyone fear them, which Token seems to remind him, almost everyday. He sees how the group is being treated-even by the headmaster’s son.

He sees it.

And it frightens him, really, of the school he was staying at.

“Shit!” Tweek came to a realization, “my limo.”

“Craig said he left the moment he dropped you off.”

Tweek rubs his hand, “so where...should I go?” 

“You’re staying here, of course.”

“In this small room?”

“Like I said before, we are decent people. You are going to get a proper bed and everything. This is just a centimetre of Craig’s mansion.” Stan turns his back to Tweek, “now, let us go up.”

 

 

 

+

Stan wasn’t exaggerating when he said the basement was a centimetre of Craig’s place. Though his place was huge, yes, but it was huge because of its emptiness. There weren’t really anything in it, just furnitures that spells out that only one person inhabited here. It was also white..which was really surprising to Tweek because he always thought that Craig was more of a colourful person but neither-less this whole mansion gave off a depressing vibe, and that’s the worst thing you can get from being at home.

Once they hit the hallway, Tweek saw Kyle and Craig still arguing with Craig finally ending it with the raise of his hands and a walk off. Stan then proceeds to Kyle and puts a hand, unnoticeable yet noticeable, on Kyle’s lower back. The red head sighs and his atmosphere changes.

Tweek’s phone buzzes, so, he retrieved his device. Before he could read the message from Token, Craig speaks out behind him.

“Follow me.” Tweek almost jumped a feet in the air.

“At least announce your self when you are near me, you want to give me a heart attack.” Tweek mumbles, which he knew for sure Craig heard.

They walked up a golden and white staircase, before Craig brings him to the outmost room on the second level of this building. Along the way, Tweek examines paintings of Craig as a kid and a small female girl, too, which Tweek obviously assumes it was his sister that died. She was cute, her red hair flowing down her red cheeks and her eyes the same colour as Craig. It was full of adventures and amusement.

Even Craig, himself, looked angelic and less stress or angered or hateful-whatever he is right now.

When they reach the room, there was a small picture of two people and two kids, all smiling at the camera. They wore matching outfits and hats. 

These were the Tuckers.

“There’s a butler downstairs if you are hungry and the washroom is to your right.” Craig speaks, looking past Tweek into the room that was open.

“Being nice for once?”

“Just doing my job.” Craig respond, proceeding to close the door. Tweek stood there pressing his eyelids together, battling his self conscious of what he is about to do. He knows it wasn’t right, but he knows that Craig deserves to know. After all he is the leader....

Right?

“Wait.” The door stood an inch away from the door frame.  
  
“I’ll tell you what happened to Kenny.” Craig finally made eye contact with Tweek, his lips parted in a small matter, “but you need to tell me something, in-in return.”

“What?” And it wasn’t said with rudeness but with curiosity, like he was eager...eager for something.

“What happened between Cartman and your parents?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you guys think that happened between the big family and Cartman? I might take into consideration some of your suggestions.


	6. The Tuckers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can’t repeat the past?…Why of course you can!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teeeheee

The drag of the void grasps a small quantity of the male sitting in the secluded part of his apartment. He augments up his glasses along his extensive nose and shoved his trembling palms in his classified pockets. The tissue of his clothing massages along his cells, spreading warmth along his freezing skin. The fireplace crackles, sparks fly as the wood burns in the endless flames.

A series of circling wind cascades down his spine resulting him to shiver, it was too cold for this time of year. After a moment, he clutches out his hands, shepherding along was his personal gadget. His eyes convert to the red precipitated cup which stayed at his side for a long time, the clumps confirm that right in front an image of a young woman. With a shake of his head, he gets back on his previous journey-fingers shivering and lips chapped.

_Hey, where are you? It’s late._

The pupils slid along the bolded letters as the synthetic light brightens his face. His mouth disconnected, rereading the tiny words that plays on his screen. Then he waits. Really, he doesn’t know why Tweek is taking so long with his limo.

He deploys his head back, ready for the night to devour him anew but instead was interrupted by a keen knock on the door. Token frowns as he went to answer it.

“Well, you’re la-Cartman?”

The man before Token heaves up his shoulders and smile, the skin beside his threadlike lips jiggles. “Hello, Mr. Black.” He spoke the last word with distaste, his prejudice personality boldness.

Token is very much aware.

“What do you want?”

Cartman kept his smirk while permitting his body to pass through the door. In response, Token closes his eyes before shutting the concrete gateway. “I want a lot of things,” Cartman glances up and down Token’s place before turning back to him, “and I think you might make one of them come true.”

Token crosses his arms, his robe shuffles. “As if.” 

Cartman crackles, he hauls his finger along the chaise lounges and starts to rub them together, testing to see if there was dust. Judging by his face, there were not. “That’s what I thought you’d say.” He looks in his bag and fetches out a folder. The cover was a nude colour and the exterior was featureless, delicate like a baby’s bottom.

Token goggles at it.

“I think you would be very interested to what I have to offer. After all, we might very much be on the same page after..” he looks down onto his evidence "..this confrontation.”

“I’m not playing prey to your phony games, Mr. Cartman.” Token hisses, a rush of sounds came from the other man’s lips. He stands boldly, promoting his hands to his heart. “Why don’t you trust me, dear, I only mean the best for you and your..family.” Token scrunches his eyebrows together.

“Get out of my house.”

“Ah, but you haven’t open the folder yet.” 

“I do not need to open it neither do I need to help you.”

Cartman wipes a tear from his eyes with his intriguing white gloves, “that hurt my feelings.”

He picks up the well defined papers and rest it on Token’s chest. “But you see this folder is not about me…it’s about you..and what happened to your mother...” 

Token delays his movements, he glances at Cartman and his eyes perceive the man’s features covered with the night’s shadows. He takes the papers off of his attire and raises it to reading level. He looks back at Cartman once again.

Cartman analyzes Token’s expression as his eyes moves left and right. His grin inches closer to his brown eyes at the sight of seeing his friend’s face falls. The paper hurdles to the floor and Token stares ahead of him, trembling hands and quivering lips.

“What sickening thing are you doing Cartman?” Token roars, his body going into a protective mode. “What..What mad games are you doing to me?”

“There all real..everything is real.” Cartman stretches and picks up his files.

“They are dead, my mother and Koy.. they’re dead.”

“Your mother..yes but Koy,” Cartman brings out another thing, “Koy is the man who’s living right next to us.”

“That’s a lie..” Token looks at Cartman then at the photo, “he’s dead and he couldn’t have killed her! There..there is no way Craigg can be him.”

“Then, you really have not met the Tuckers.” Cartman said, watching Token study the next piece of information. “You see, the Tuckers would do anything for their boy.  False Identity. Trade.”

“And murder.” 

The movement of Cartman’s actions to the door creates a sequence in which Token descends to the ground. The foam at the end of his mouth demonstrates the unaturality of emotions being spread over his body. His head cannot stop unleashing heartfelt throbs and his veins dig themselves out from underneath.

“Now, if you don’t believe me still then don’t but I need you Token,” Cartman turns, “please rethink it over.”

The door crackles a little yet Cartman waits on purpose, he waits for the answer he knows he’s already going to get.

“I’ll help...you.” 

“I think you’d like what you are helping me with.” Cartman walks out the door, leaving a distorted man on the ground, shivering in the twilight.

 

 

+ 

The silk sheets coil around the warmth membranes, cuddling the scorching body in their arms. One of his toes pokes out, making (or trying to make) his corpse equivalent to the room temperature. Though, there weren’t many changes, just that precise portion preserving from the rise in heat. 

It was unresponsive, silent, just the birds outside singing from an appreciated distance. The only light that was in is the reflection of the sunlight in the wide, castle-like windows. His chest, filled with nothing but air, rises up and down, up and down.

There was a flamboyant blaring in Tweek’s ears concluding him to sprout out of bed from his comfortable sleep. Because of the fast effect, his body didn’t comprehend his weight so he drastically falls to the floor-shoulders still attach and everything. The sound continues its irritating tune and Tweek groans and drags open the door.

He was greeted by an old man in a tux.

“What?!” He screams, his hair falling between his eyes and itching his nose a bit.

“Master Tucker wishes to meet you downstairs for brunch.”

“Well, thank you..”

“Offspring.” 

“Yes, thank you Offspring.” He said, before closing the door and dropping back to his bed.

He was indulged in the warmth then suddenly a sheet of coldness fills his skin. His eyes flick open.

That mofo turned up the temp.

 

 

“Looking sharp on this nice morning.” Craig greeted, his robes dangle off of him as he sips from an ancient China teacup. The handle flirts with his fingers, creating emphasis on them. His hair covers his face and the bags underneath his eyes licks on his skin. Yet, he manages to stay handsome in this situation. Yes, he said it, Craig is handsome now leave Tweek alone.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tweek groans, resting himself on the table, five chairs away from Craig. A smile rise on Craig's face, this one a hint of his humanity.

“Rough sleep?” Craig spoke into the cup, Tweek turns his eyes to him.

“You know, I should give you the silent treatment after you trick me last night.” That seems to get his attention because he looks up. “Trick? I answered your question.”

“My parents are bad people is not an answer.” Tweek growls and Craig laughs, cold and hard, ”it’s the truth.”

“Still not an answer, especially after I told you every single detail that happened to Kenny!”

“That was your own fault. All I needed to know was where he is and who did it to him.”

Tweek huffs and sat back on his chair after he realize he had gotten up, the cushion impacted his fall. He glares up at the table, then at the syrup dripping off the pancakes and sighs.

“You better eat up, we are leaving soon.”

Tweek’s eyebrows came together, he brings up his drink, the hot container burns his tongue, “leaving to?”

Craig sips on his drink. “To see Kenny.”

Tweek spits out his coffee, "wait..wait to see Kenny? Isn't he on campus still?"

"Well, apparently not after all Bebe found him with your clues.”

“Bebe found him,” Tweek pinches the skin underneath the table, he feels part of it peel, "with all the information that I gave you?” His life flashes before his eyes.

“That is what I said yes,” Craig looks at Tweek with a blank expression. “She’s blond-“

“I know who she is, it is just that.” Tweek bites his lips as Craig’s eyes glue to him, “I…um..thought she was also on campus...”

"I don't know what happened.” The chair squeals and out came Craig, "now, hurry up so we can leave.”

“Don’t rush me.” Tweek exhales and Craig walks away with Offspring.

 

 

“Here you go.” Craig was clutching a piece of cloth. He was standing in front of Tweek in his 20 by 20 km garage with the capacity filled up with one car. The walls seem like it haven't been fix in years and the floor looked polished, yet musty.

“And what is this for,” Tweek questions, inspecting the mysterious clothing piece. It was short, black and trailing from Tweek's fingertips.

“Wear it around your eyes until I tell you not to.” Responded Craig, all serious. “It’s for security purpose.” He is referring to this location.

“You are kidding me, right?” Though that was really a stupid question because when have Craig ever joked about anything.

Craig just gave him a piece of his empty wide eyes and Tweek finds himself rolling his own. “Fine.” Tweek mumbles, toying with the cloth around his head. Some of his hair got tied up with the knot, making Tweek hiss in silence. Craig shoves Tweek in his car and approaches the other side for the driver's seat.

The engine commences and soon the ground was kinetic. After a couple of minutes, Tweek presumes it was around 12, he was granted his freedom with the removal of the fabric. The moment his eyes came to adjust, he was welcomed by the outburst rays of the gaseous ball in the sky and the dark objects in the foreground-embodying people and buildings. The small lightening, flung by the sun’s aura, exhibits how overpopulated the town was; people with buckets in their arms and produce selling under tents. It was loud and somehow peaceful. Tweek’s lips twitch up and Craig got a glance of it.

“This city is my home,” was what Craig interrupted Tweek’s thoughts with, “any danger to it must be exterminated.” It was an explanation to last night. Craig encountered Tweek’s eyes in the mirror before looking away. Maybe, it was just Tweek but Craig’s eyes turn slightly, and he means slightly, soft blue as if he was sharing something from his heart. It was a generous look, that right there, Tweek felt for the very first time….sympathy?

Perchance he doesn’t want to see Craig break but more of this side of him. 

“It’s a nice place,” Tweek said, hands playing with his jeans, “friendly..”

“Yet, it needs help,” Craig mumbles, pulling up in the parking lot. 

The hospital wasn’t innovative or like what you would perceive when you go to an urban setting-it was more like a small clinic on the side of the road that your parents would take you there to get check-ups. It had a small table and two couches; if you look very closely you can see the bed bugs playing underneath. The scent of the room was different…not what you expected from a clinic or a life-support terrain. Instead of the raw smell of hand sanitizer or just the plain old hospital smell, you are given the smell of baked bread..yes, you heard it, baked bread.

The receptionist smiles at Craig and give him the number without him asking anything. They made their way to room 207.

They were greeted by Bebe, who leans against the window watching Kenny’s lifeless body on the bed and the machine pumping blood and fluid into his system. Kenny appears worse than he did before, the bruises seem to have demonstrated their full effect on him. His face, swallowing with puss and his lips, dry from dehydration and from cuts, were so purple that it makes purple lipstick look pink. On the adjacent of the cradle were Kyle and Stan-Kyle quiescent in the man’s arms and Stan glazing his palms on his spine.

“How is he?” Craig asks, walking up to Kenny. Kyle leans up from Stan’s arms, “the doctor said he is in life-threatening condition.”

Bebe was now staring at Tweek.

“Why would he do this,” Stan spoke, his voice cracking in disgust. Kyle grabs Stan’s hand and holds it in his own. Tweek glances at that.

"A warning perhaps,” Craig utters, examining Kenny’s body. His voice got deeper, “a warning for me.”

Bebe advances her body to a standing position and strides in front of Tweek,  “I am going to get some warm drinks for us,” she stares at Tweek, “I don’t think I can carry them on my own.”

Tweek gulps, feeling the tension raise from the three unknowns about their..situation. It wasn’t a request from her, it was an order. “Yeah..um, I’ll help you with that,” Tweek answered, tailing Bebe out the hospital room and never feeling Craig’s eyes left any of them.

It was silent, the walk, and Tweek just wanted to get it over with whatever Bebe wants to do with him. In the awkward silence, and because of Tweek’s natural instinct to not include himself in this awkwardness, Tweek started to whistle. It didn’t last long because Bebe shot him a look and suddenly his mouth can’t open.

They were at the cafeteria when Bebe turns, “I only ask you for one thing.”

“I know, I’m sorry that I blew it.” Bebe laughs.

“Don’t apologize to me, I’m not the one who it is going to affect dramatically,” Bebe said, pulling out her wallet, "apologize to-“

“Bebe!” An unknown voice calls out to Tweek but not to the lady beside him because Bebe curses. She flips to the left of her, resulting in Tweek following her movements. They face a man in a black jacket similar to theirs but had cobras riding his arms. He licks his lips with his red eyes darted up and down Bebe’s body. His hair was gel to the side and he had a well-defined and attractive face (his cheekbones push out from his skin and his nose is in the right position and he had an angelic structure). Though somewhere, this man gives off this aura like he is the devil.

“What the fuck are you doing on this side of the town, Cobra?” Bebe hiss and the boy let out a strong laugh. “Ah, don’t be like that..aren’t we friends after the amazing sex we had before you join,” the boy walks closer, “before you join them.”

Bebe steps back, “and aren’t you always dwelling on the past, Damien, especially after your boyfriend left you.” Damien's eyes turn blood red, and Tweek means blood blood red.

“At least my leader isn’t a serial killer.” Damien revolted back, making Bebe take a step forward, "at least he doesn't make his own team die at his hands.”

“Wow, wow brake it up.” Another voice came in with a dominant French accent, “what’s all this recuss about, we are all friends here.”

"Well, apparently birds don’t get along with king snakes,” Damien responded, making Bebe pinch the side of her thigh, a gesture of what she is planning to do with Damien. “Why are you here anyway, you know this is our territory.”

“We came ze zee Kenny, ze course.” The man said, putting an arm around Bebe, “we owe zim a lot.”

“Craig won’t be happy,” Bebe utters, looking at both, “he hates you guys especially after stepping into his territory.”

“Well, he did accepted you and Kenny after you betrayed us.” Damien pointed out, “why won’t he accept a friendly visit? We are not at war or anything.”

Tweek looks around awkwardly which Christophe finally catch on that they were accompanied by someone, "who ze zis fellow?”

“He is a mental ill kid at the hospital,” Bebe lies, her hand release from her body.

“Or maybe one of Craig’s fuck body, smells like him.” Damien laughs, licking his lips at Bebe again. Bebe shivers and Tweek squinted his eyes together.

“As if Craig has a sex life.” Tweek mutters and Damien grew a smile on his face, “I like this one.” He strolls over to Tweek and lands a hand on his shoulders, "you should come to our side."

"Like I said, he is a mental ill kid at the hospital, doesn't know what he is saying," Bebe grunts at Tweek messing up for the second time.

“Enough zaid, Bebe is zright if Craig ze us ze would end zus.” Christophe said, grabbing Damien by the arm. “Call me.” He gestured to Bebe.

“Who are they?” Tweek asks and Bebe sighs, "rival gang.”

She addresses her body to the blond and crosses her hands dramatically, "and thanks for that, yeah, for screwing up the second time."

 

“So,” Stan walks around, his feet clapping against the silent motionless room that the only additional sound is the beeps from the machines, “what the fuck are we going to do?”

Craig glares out the window, both hands on the railing. You can't really read his expression from the back but somehow, Tweek can interpret that he is furious.

“Leave him alone for now,” Kyle talks in the lifeless arena, holding Kenny’s arm, “if we agitate him who knows what he might do.”

“Leave him alone is the stupidest idea you’ve come up with Kyle,” Craig said, tapping on the window, "we leave him alone for something like that to happen to one of you guys, I can’t do that.” Bebe shifts to her left foot. "I can't afford to lose..you," he positions his head to the side, "any of you."

Kyle sighs and Tweek cleared his throat, “I think Kyle's right, leave him alone for now."

Everyone, except Craig, now face him for the engagement of their attention, "Cartman is a dangerous man at the moment, look at Kenny for example I doubt he never did any of this before.." no one answered him, so technically that was their response, "leave him for now until he cools down."

“So what are you trying to say?”

“Craig said that he doesn't want this to happen to any one of you again, right. It would be even more sickening the second time he does it for sure. Cartman just came back from whatever your parents did to him, Craig, he is furious, he WANTS revenge and from what I've seen, he desperately wants you guys to retaliate from his acts of revenge.” Tweek's voice was numb now and his cheeks began to heat up after a long minute of eyes glue to him as if he was going to disappear.

“What do you say, Craig?” Bebe asks, her eyes meeting Tweek's. 

“Get out! Get out now!” Craig screams, exiting from the window when he turns he looked scared..frightened. “Stan carry Tweek to your house until the weekend is over. Go, go!”

“Wtf is going on, man?” Stan vocalizes his thoughts-everyone's thoughts. Tweek theory can't be that bad. Craig rushes to the side of his bed to retrieve Stan's phone.

“Bebe stay with me.” Craig requests and Bebe nods. Stan went to look out the window, still questioning Craig's sudden outburst. It seems like he found it, ”oh, shit.”

“What?” Kyle asks, rushing towards the window too.

“The Tuckers are here, they must have heard about Kenny from the doctors.”

Bebe looks at Tweek and Tweek gulps.

This is what she meant.

But who? Who does he had to apologize to.

“Shit go,” Craig yells and Kyle grabs Tweek's hand and sprints out the door, Stan leading both of them. They went through the emergency exit, luckily the alarm did not go off. Their feet march on the collapse colour stairs and their breath pours into their ears. It felt like a movie, those movies where they were running from an alien invasion or something.

They were close..so fucking close.

Then announcements came.

_All vistors do not leave the building. All visitors do not leave the building._

Kyle looks at Stan, “shit.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where the fuck is Wendy? 0-0  
> Also, carring Craig..my heart


	7. Ruby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A phrase began to beat in my ears with a sort of heady excitement: 'There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy, and the tired.'"

“So are Craig’s parents lunatics that kill everyone they see or..” Tweek was situated alongside Kyle who was regarding the window, enthusiastically. An extensive haired girl parks herself in the driver’s HQ, her eyes coating the road. Her name was accredited well to the group but it was faint in Tweek’s mental capacity. The last member that Tweek haven’t officially met and he forgets her name! Then again, everything right now is fucked up and that should be the least of his problems.

Nonetheless, her timing couldn’t be anymore accurate; the moment they were exiting the building, she was there entering it.

“Craig’s parents are..” Stan beats his finger on the radio, it’s useless system left the car inaudible, and then stop, “..complicated.”

“Oh cut with this bullshit! Craig’s parents are this…Craig’s parents are that..” Tweek screeches, he felt his head arranging a plan with his heart to explode and low-key wishes for it to do so just to diminish the agony, “just tell me what their deal is! Why are we even running from them?” It was truly irritating; having to wait patiently for someone to tell you what is going on and why you are in danger. Then again, Tweek was the one who got himself in this mess…well, technically anyways.

“What? Is he part of our gang now?” The driver’s voice publicize itself on Tweek’s ears for the first time, her voice was icy yet soft. The formulary of her words seem like one of those people on campus. Speaking of campus, he wonders how Token is doing and if he got the memorandums that he left last night. To be honest, the more he thinks about it, the more he wishes he had not left anything at all-for questioning purposes. Stan alternates to Tweek, “no, unless Craig already made decisions by himself.”

“I am not part of your stupid gang..alright. I just want to know what is going on.” Tweek’s hair attitudes on his skin and his temperature upsurges to the heavens.

There were a couple of minutes of silence, each individual trying to calm down from not just the harsh words being exchanged but also their flight from the hospital. It all happened so lively, the way Craig shouted for them to get out and the hospital being in a force lock down because of the famous couple; the Tuckers.

Tweek gets it, he really gets it, how people like them are trying so hard to keep this order..this peace by not telling him-by not giving Tweek information into this danger and in a way protecting Craig. But Tweek is confuse and lost when these people are talking in codes saying something like ‘this’ and ‘that’. He just wants to apprehend why he is in danger, just want to make sure Craig & Bebe aren’t.

“It’s fine guys, I trust him. Plus, he does need an explanation for all of this.” Kyle spoke from his palm; it was faint but manageable for the human ears. He gazes at Tweek in an approval way. “Kenny, and I guess Craig have said it too, was right, you are different and you might-or you could-help us figure out what Cartman is up to.” Tweek relaxes in the seat, crossing his arms and thinking; finally. Stan searches for Kyle’s eyes in the mirror but the red head was avoiding him for some reason.

“You see Craig has or well,” Kyle exhales, “how should I put this..Craig used to have a little sister.” There was a flashback in Tweek’s thoughts of a girl that was younger than him, smiling up to the camera. “She died when Craig was thirteen.”

Tweek nods for Kyle to continue, “Craig’s parents, I feel, were always messed up people. They were corrupted in the money and their own ‘name’. On the day of Craig’s sister’s, Ruby’s, death, their parents were away on a vacation. This was a perfect timing for some terrorist to plan the attack on the Tuckers by kidnapping the two things that you think they would treasure the most...”

The car slowed down in a familiar path; the woods cover the sky and there was a dark glow in front of the vehicle. Wendy flips on the light to give them a look of what they were in for-of the path that leads to a base, a shelter for now. “I am not sure what exactly happened but the Tuckers managed to rescue Craig only and Ruby..well Ruby was still captured.” He gazes at Tweek and gave him a small smile, the car remains silent “like I said before, the Tuckers would do anything for their name so they did what they had to do or what they think they had to do. They blew up the place with Ruby inside just to keep that stain off of their reputation. She became less valuable to them once they raped her, a fucking child! And Ruby..she was really close to Craig so you could imagine how it made him feel once he found out.”

Tweek had his eyes on Kyle’s face seeing him mentally brake down, “d-don’t blame Craig for the way he is,” Kyle gave him a sympathy look, “he never got close to anyone after that, maybe Kenny but other than that no one. He starts cutting off people, he won’t tell us what is on his mind…he became cruel and glue to his name..to his family’s name just like his parents wanted him to. He gave up on life that’s why-making the only people he know take control over him. She was the one person that was normal to him. The rest he either envied or simply disliked. But she was there. There hasn’t gone a day where he wouldn’t talk about her...she showed him things that no one else can and they took it away...” Kyle places a hand on Tweek’s, “but you give off this aura that you won’t stick up to his bullshit just because he is a Tucker..I feel like you could change him, make him go back to his usual self.”

“How?” Tweek asks, he turns to the rest as so many things process in his mind. It makes sense; the way Craig behaves, his emptiness, the talk of Tuckers, the lie that Ruby had cancer. The rumors, especially the rumors. The drug lord, the gang, his killings. It all makes sense. They-the Tuckers created this reputation for Craig to live in and after his sister’s death, he gives in to it. Tweek always thought Craig was a stock up spoil child using his reputation to get away with his killings but it seems like he is just a product of the Tuckers’ grotesque design.

“Show him what he wants.” Kyle glows to him, reading Tweek’s mind, “show him he is normal like any one of us. It’ll be hard for you to get around the Tuckers but please do it. That’s all he ever exceed for, that is why he came to the campus to become something he really wants to become.”

“Why can’t you guys do this?” Tweek questions as if he was to proceed with this request, “why can’t you show him?” They are much closer to Craig than Tweek. 

“It’s because we-we,” Stan spoke, he grips the edge, knuckles turning red and everything, “we already ruin our turn, the Tuckers made sure of that.” There was a further explanation but Stan left it. Tweek moves his eyebrows closer together.

“So..what’s the deal with the Tuckers being in town? Or why we are fleeing before they enter? And why does the hospital goes into a sudden lock down?”

“The one thing I admire about the Tuckers are their spies; like snakes slithering in grass. They have many too, on campus, here and even at the borders. I guess to keep an eye on whoever threaten Craig’s reputation..” A whistle came from the outside, winds crashing against the windows, “they know about you and Craig. They know about the campus incident, the pranks..Because of you, Craig don’t seem like the bad guy anymore....You challenge him..The Tuckers are most likely angry, the last time someone threaten Craig’s reputation was Cartman and god knows where they put him..just that he was really piss when he came back.”

“It’s because Craig now is the heir to their company and well the Tuckers take down anyone who seems remotely a threat,” Kyle tugs his arms from Tweek to cup it in his lap, “Craig hates it-I know he does. He doesn’t have to say it, you can see how much it bothers him. He tries to go along with it, to protect the people on campus and here—that’s the most important thing to him; innocent lives.”

The memory of what Stan said in the basement submerge from his unconsciousness. Craig is still a murder, that isn’t rocket science, but he does it for the citizens, for lives that cannot be protect because there is no polices-no other protection. His killings contribute an even worse image to him, which is quite sad.

Tweek chuckles awkwardly and shakes his head, “but—that doesn’t even make sense. Why would they be so threaten by someone as simple as me?”

“I wonder that too,” Kyle said, “I mean no offense but if they heard the rumors on campus, you seem like an ant on Craig’s back.”

There was a defeating ring breaking loose in to the car that made everyone leap to their feet-or to an upper position. The vehicle suddenly came to a halt, the force of gravity pushes them forward-Tweek hitting his face on the back of Stan’s seat. Wendy grips her wheel tightly and leans in front, her teeth digs into her lips.

“Shit.” Wendy exhales, “I think I just hit someone.”

“It might be a deer?” Stan suggests but Wendy shakes her head, “no, it was definitely human.”

Stan turns to them, the blue faint colour in his eyes meet with each and every sets that were left in the car, though it stayed longer on Kyle’s, “stay in here, I’ll go check it out.”

They all observe how Stan disappeared into the darkness. The trees beginning to look darker every second and the sun was finally tired, waiting for the moon’s shift to start. Kyle was beside him, trembling like a mouse getting caught stealing. He lifts his head above the car seat-he was one of the shortest boy Tweek had known and that says a lot considering Tweek is already short-and shifts to find where Stan could have possible gone to. Stan came back, his face caught between shocked and worry.  
“Guys, it’s Butters.”

“Who’s Butters?” Tweek asks and Kyle rushes outside, alongside Wendy. “Wow, thanks for a great answer!” Tweek mumbles to himself, he saw no point in going outside since they were more than enough people to not only carry Butters but call help. The road was feeling emptier, the car was becoming colder. In the rear end, pass the bushes that are now visible, Tweek saw glowing green eyes, something he’ll only see in the movies. It blinks still watching the man in the car, looking directly at each other. They came back, finally, all helping a man with blond hair striking his skin and his shirt dark blue—joining hands with the night. He resembles someone Tweek had seen before, someone on campus.

“Butters, what the fuck you doing here?” Wendy asks, pulling Butters in. He lifts his head, his body swaying to the seat. His lips were chapped and his forehead was a pool of blood—you could barely recognize him.

Then, Tweek sees the scar behooved his eye.

Ah, the boy from the elevator.

“I..need…to..see..Kenny.” Butters ushered, his forehead bleeding. “I was..trying to find..Stan and Kyle.”

“How did you even get here?” Kyle asks, he was shock to see Butters still conscious, “the gates are closed by this time.”

“Closed?” Butters addresses Kyle, “it was open, it has been open.”

Kyle looks at Wendy and Stan. “What do you mean they were open?”

Butters coughs, “I don’t know what happened but the headmaster is dead. Cartman is in charge and apparently, he is going to close the gate forever..It is open now because it’s recharging....” Butters was interrupted by a sound coming from the forest. They were hungry, smelling blood and seeing twice the food that they can consume. It didn’t take anyone to say something before the rest rush into the car and start the engine.

“We got to tell, Craig.” Kyle concludes, running his hands through his hair, “god and the Tuckers are here.”

“I need Ken, Kyle,” Butters starts to beg, “I need to tell him something..”

 

 

 

 

+

  
“So..let me get this straight. Cartman is now headmaster, the Tuckers are here while Cartman is headmaster.” Kyle walks around, “if they ever find out-“

“Lets hope they don’t..” Stan contributes, bringing out a beer. Kyle winces when he took a jug, some of it dropping on his cheeks, “hey, watch it.”

“It’s fine Kyle, just a sip.” Stan mumbles and look back at Tweek, his eyes beginning to look distance by the small portion.

“He is stupid enough to close the gate,” Tweek argues, and Stan nods, “yes, he is. It’s our only access point to campus and to further north. If we go south, we’ll enter the Cobra’s territory.” Tweek raises his eyebrows in confusion, “you need to go back to campus before he shuts the gates.”

“What?” Tweek said, “leave now when I’m already well involved.”

“Look, it is not safe here, especially, since you are suppose to be in school-“ Tweek opens his mouth but Stan shakes his head, “we can’t be the one to take away your education, also you would be much safer there. Cartman has at least a thousand kids under his belt, he won’t recognize you but the Tuckers know each and every one of the people living here. You need to go and stay there...with this one.”

“I am not going anywhere without Kenny.” Butters said, his knees up, wrapped by his arms and Stan laughs. “Butters, have you open your eyes, Kenny is in a coma...who knows when he is going to wake up! You have your girl on campus what if they come over to find us.” Butters shifts to open his mouth but closed it after. Stan sighs, “Just-“

Out of nowhere, in the middle of forest; the solid rectangle windows break into fragments and bullets rush into the room as if they were competing. Everyone drops to the hard concrete and Stan hovers over the group to shield them as the massacre continues. The bullets crash through the wall, leaving huge holes that would take weeks to fix while some reflects to the floor. Others find their way into the flower bottles and cabinets, crumbling them all together. The door was demolish, it was the end of its days as it crashes to the ground. The sound echoed throughout the place, causing Butters to cover his ears with his hands. Tweek felt a bullet scrap the tip of his ears, opening the skin for blood. There was a stingy sensation following after.

It lasted twenty seconds before the sound of tires were heard. It took another 5 minutes for everyone to get up and for Stan to rush outside.

The place was trashed, couches torn up, walls looking like it caught chicken pox, windows shattering into millions of pieces. Tweek’s breath was shallow, and his heart was knocking on his chest. Who could have done this? And why? He felt his left ear heating up and it stings when he touches it. The blood on his palm makes him twitch.

Tweek looks at Butters and Kyle, seeing them both lost in the moment; eyes unblinking, mouth opened. Then, he realizes they were studying something which made it give this reaction. Tweek followed their gaze and saw a lifeless body on the ground, her mouth sprinkling blood out and her hands over her heart. The ring in his ears continues as he rushes outside and seated near Stan who was crying. He opened his mouth and said something but the words were soft to the obnoxious blaring.

The hand that was covering Wendy’s heart descends slowly to her side and then on the grass. Her mouth stops moving and her eyes were not involuntary being shut. The rise and fall of her chest have come to an end.

She was dead.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t mess with the Tuckers.


	8. Author’s Note

Hey guys, I just want to say thank you all for the comments... I do read all of them even if I don’t respond. I just wanna say I’m not going to drop this story, I do see me finishing it but it might take me some time because of Univeristy. So chapters won’t be out in 3-4 weeks but more like months. I will try to keep it all in one week. Once again, thanks for all the support.


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